


if you say that you love me

by imogeline



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Implied Sexual Content, Love Bites, M/M, Morning After
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 08:40:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14257134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imogeline/pseuds/imogeline
Summary: “Kokichi,” Kaito says. “What the fuck is this?”“You know, that shade of purple really is your color,” Kokichi says. “I think it looks good on you.”---Kaito gets a love bite.





	if you say that you love me

“Kokichi,” Kaito’s voice calls out from the bathroom, his voice slightly echoed. “What the fuck is this?”

“What’s what, Momo-chan?” Kokichi says, not moving an inch out of the very comfortable blanket cocoon he had constructed on Kaito’s bed.

Kaito emerges from the bathroom. Kokichi bothers to tilt his head in his direction as he stomps over to examine a thoroughly indignant Kaito with one hand pointing towards his neck. As if Kokichi couldn’t tell what he was supposed to be looking at already from the gesture, Kaito jabs his pointing finger closer to the large bruise parading up the column of his throat. 

Purple, Kokichi thinks. Kaito says, “What the hell, Kokichi?”

“You know, that shade of purple is your color,” Kokichi says. “I think it looks good on you.”

“Were you trying to bite my goddamn head off last night or something?”

Kokichi looks away and taps his chin in thought. Kaito groans. When he turns away to stomp back to the bathroom to further ruminate on the extensive hickey, Kokichi takes a second to admire the scratches on Kaito’s bare shoulder blades. Kaito examines it again in the mirror, twists slightly to get a different angle and groans again when he spies where Kokichi’s nails had bitten into his skin. “Really?”

“You really have to stop getting into fights with raccoons,” Kokichi says.

Kaito pokes his head out of the bathroom with a sour expression. “Do you ever wanna get laid again? ‘Cause if you do, you should really shut up.”

“Momo-chan, you know you shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep or threats that you can’t follow through.”

Kaito narrows his eyes, pauses for a few seconds, then mumbles, “shut the fuck up,” before disappearing from sight back into the bathroom. 

Kokichi giggles, and he shifts slightly to better peer in to the bathroom to watch Kaito gingerly trace the dark expanse of his neck with his fingertips. If it weren’t for the irritation creasing his brow and the stream of breathy curses, it would be an almost sensual image. Though then again, maybe it still is—Kokichi had always found an aggravated Kaito to be pretty hot.

He wouldn’t exactly call what they did last night the throes of passion, but it had been nice. Their bodies flushed together, Kaito thrusting and moving in such a way as to almost make Kokichi let out something other than his usual controlled gasps or sighs. The strangely pleasing feeling Kokichi got from raking his nails over Kaito’s skin and the way Kaito would occasionally glance down at him as if looking for approval. The last thing would always make Kokichi smirk just a little and then even more when he would assure him and Kaito’s face would flush. 

There was also distinctly something about sleeping with Kaito that Kokichi found very pleasing. Perhaps part of it was the odd fulfillment of the school day fantasies he had cooked up of seducing the dumb but cute jock who would do anything to pass math. Of course, that quickly fell apart when Kokichi had found in dismay and irritation that Kaito—despite his general lack of logical thinking skills—was far better at most traditional academics than him. But still, Kaito could and often did unwittingly play the role of the airhead satisfyingly enough that Kokichi could on occasion convince himself that that was the basis of his attraction. 

But on the off chance that he decided not to lie to himself, Kokichi knew there was something else. Kaito was popular and loved and everyone’s hero, but in the private moments when Kokichi would press against him and Kaito would get halfway though moaning his name before descending into incomprehensible noises of pleasure, he was only his. 

Kokichi didn’t really consider himself a possessive person, but still, he studied the love bite he had left on Kaito’s neck—the bite that Kaito had let him leave—and felt a rush of satisfaction. They weren’t dating—regular sex wasn’t dating, something Kokichi often felt the need to bring up whenever he suspected that Kaito was debating announcing his affections—but in whatever strange thing they did have, Kaito was his. 

He just couldn’t let him say it out loud. 

But thinking like that was too dangerous for Kokichi to let the thoughts linger long, and he rolls over away from Kaito to face the less judging ceiling instead.

Maintaining distance required constant upkeep. Kokichi had long since realized that if he let things exist as they were without interference, then Kaito would slowly drift closer and closer to him, expecting him to open up, wanting to offer support, insisting on cuddling after what was otherwise a satisfying fuck. And so Kokichi found it necessary to pretend to forget planned meetings, call him by the wrong name, and tease him relentlessly about how much he surely must want to bed other people. 

Of course, it was a careful balancing act as sometimes Kokichi would see a fleeting look of hurt before Kaito would ball his hands into fists and attempt to lie that he was only angry and nothing more and Kokichi would wonder if he had gone too far. Kokichi also assured himself it was his conscience somehow still alive and kicking that was the cause of him pursuing acts of kindness after the fact. 

The last such incident had resulted in a warm enough reunion that he had had to endure an entire night of Kaito holding him close to his chest and nuzzling the top of his head. Kokichi had emerged from his grip the next morning, complaining profusely about how sweaty Kaito’s bear hold had made him. Kaito had laughed and said he didn’t want his shirt back if that was the case, and Kokichi had had the rude awakening of realizing what he had worn to bed that night. 

And then they had returned to their old song and dance as the cycle began again. And Kokichi had won the unspoken war Kaito didn’t even realize was being waged to keep their relationship quiet. 

He glances down at himself and picks at part of the pattern adorning the current Kaito sized T-shirt he had wriggled into the night before out of convenience. It had disturbed him the last time he noticed he had done such a thing. This time, Kokichi simply lolls his head back to glance through the bathroom door. Kaito’s in only his rather amusing star patterned boxers. Together, they make one thrown together outfit, Kokichi thinks.

Kaito says to himself, “how the hell am I gonna explain this?”

“Man, I had no idea you were so obsessed with your looks, Momo-chan,” Kokichi says. “You can borrow one of my scarves, if it bothers you that much.”

Kaito sighs as he leans back from the mirror to address Kokichi. “And how would that not be fucking weird?”

Kokichi puffs out his cheeks as he finally pries himself out of his blanket fortress. “Well, for one, you’d be stylish for once.”

“And it would also tell everyone that we’re sleeping together,” Kaito says. “So it’d do jackshit.”

Kokichi swings his skinny legs over the edge of the bed, the sudden void of warmth from Kaito’s blanket prickling over his skin. “No, because friends share stuff with friends all the time—not everyone has as dirty a mind as you, Momo-chan.”

Kaito stares at him oddly as Kokichi pads over to him barefooted. “‘Friends?’” 

“Well, in my infinite wisdom, Momo-chan,” Kokichi says. “I think you should probably at least tolerate the person you’re sleeping with, and ‘friends’ shows slightly more familiarity than ‘acquaintances.’” He shrugs. “And I also assumed that saying ‘fuck-buddies’ would get your panties in a twist.”

Kaito scowls. “You can’t accuse me of being a pervert and then call me a prude five seconds later.”

“Yes, I can,” Kokichi says. “The rules allow it.”

“What rules?”

“The fuck-buddy rules.”

Kaito pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ, Kokichi.” 

“Stop being such a prude, Momo-chan.”

“That still doesn’t make any sense,” Kaito says. “And you know this whole thing is all your fault. We wouldn’t even be having this conversation if you weren’t a goddamn piranha.”

Kokichi dramatically sighs. “I don’t even know why you’re so upset about this unless you really are that vain. Though, big, tough Momo-chan crying over a little bruise is pretty funny.”

Kaito glares. “Kokichi, do you have eyes? This thing is fucking huge, and it’s still your fault.” 

“Well, we don’t know for sure that it was me,” Kokichi says. “I have a pretty small mouth, so it was probably a different one night stand.”

“Quit lying,” Kaito says. “I’m already pissed at you.”

Kokichi hums. “Deflection… suspicious…”

Kaito sighs as he runs a hand over his face. “Kokichi, I am this close to punching you and making us match.”

“How romantic,” Kokichi says before standing on his tiptoes. “Now, come on, let me actually know what I’m accused of before you punish me.” He drops back down on to the flats of his feet. “Unless it’s a sexy punishment.”

Kaito gives him an exasperated look that he doesn’t drop even as Kokichi giggles about how that was an obvious lie and of course he would still want to see the bruise even if it was, in fact, a sexy punishment. 

“You are such a freak,” he mumbles as he drops to a kneeling position. 

Kokichi reaches forward to press his fingers against the edge of purple splotches splattered over Kaito’s neck. Kaito winces slightly at his touch and clenches his jaw when Kokichi begins to lightly apply pressure. Very softly Kokichi says, “That remains to be seen.”

Kaito is obedient when he doesn’t seem to realize he’s being ordered around, and his only protest to Kokichi’s roaming fingers is the occasional hissing intake of breath. Kokichi isn’t exactly sure what he’s trying to accomplish as his touches vary from gentle to firm enough to make Kaito grimace. He thinks again how Kaito had so willing let him put his teeth to one of the most vulnerable parts of his skin, and that, in the moment, he had enjoyed it. 

But, then, he decides thinking about vulnerability is silly. Kokichi presses ruthlessly enough on the epicenter of the bruise that Kaito curses, “Fuck, Koki—”

He stops when Kokichi leans forward to again press his mouth to the tender skin. Kaito’s breath hitches at what starts as an uncharacteristically sweet kiss. And Kokichi changes his mind and his tactics and rests his hands on Kaito’s broad shoulders. 

He bites down.

Kaito yelps, “Hey—!” and only reaches up to push at Kokichi then, taking hold of his upper arms. “The fuck are you do—”

Kokichi tears his mouth away to whisper hurriedly into Kaito’s ear. “Just helping you out,” he says. He steps back, vaguely realizing just how hot Kaito is once he’s not longer taking in his warmth. “Purple’s still your color, you know.”

Kaito gives him a dubious looks as he rubs at his abused neck. “Is that supposed to explain anything?”

Kokichi ducks out of the bathroom. “Not that hard to figure out, Momo-chan—I just want to help you look your best!” 

Kokichi hears a snort behind him, and Kaito mutter, “Yeah, the goddamn turtleneck I’m gonna have to wear tomorrow will look great.”

“Boo,” Kokichi flops back on the bed, calling out. “And after all that extra work I did so you could show it off to everyone.”

“What?”

Kokichi pulls a blanket over himself. “Geeze, Momo-chan, can’t you tell a lie when you hear one?”

He turns so his back is to Kaito when he emerges from the bathroom. Kokichi hears him approach and hesitate behind him. Then, “You are so weird,” as Kaito retreats to start getting ready for the day in earnest. And, “Dunno why I put up with you.”

Kokichi remains silent, listening to the slight shifting noises of Kaito dressing. Kokichi returns to absently picking at the pattern on his T-shirt. Kaito says, “This is not how I wanted to let Harumaki and Shuuichi know,” he sighs. “And Iruma’s gonna be a huge pain in the ass, too…”

Kaito continues grumbling to himself over the fate that awaits him that morning when the others spy Kokichi’s unorthodox confession painted across his neck. Kaito can’t see him, so Kokichi doesn’t feel too bad when a smile tugs at his lips as he thinks about how Kaito isn’t planning to hide it beneath a scarf or a shirt or a few awkwardly crafted lies. 

Kokichi knows Kaito hasn’t caught on yet, but that’s okay. Actions speak louder than words, and Kokichi finds himself more amused than anything else at waiting for the day when Kaito starts to listen.

**Author's Note:**

> first time trying to write anything uh vaguely sexy jhkhdkf so i hope i did okay! i really like this ship so i hope to write more of them in the future too!


End file.
